Disclaimer: Not only do I not own Batman Beyond, but also a little side note... cocaine and crystal meth are to be avoid, at all costs, kids. Those are some extremely nasty substances, and I don't endorse their use in any way.
On with it, then! Do please review. :)
Gotham's been getting a lot of rain recently, Terry thought dreamily as his head snapped backwards.
His inertia was halted quickly – one of his assailants punched him, hard, in the back of his neck. Stars blossomed in front of his eyes.
"Terry, get out of there!" Bruce shouted, hoarse. When the men had first surprised Terry, blitzing him with nothing more than pipes and their fists, Bruce had been silent, confident of his protégé's skill. But when they landed hit after hit, Bruce began to mutter, to worry. Not normal men. Slappers, splicing? Maybe crystal meth and a bad temperament?
Whatever the case, Terry had no chance against these five men. Bruce's shout in his ear startled him out of his escape into thoughts of precipitation. Now he felt the pain. "You know, I'd love to," he gritted out, but the voice over Bruce's speakers wasn't sarcastic, was thin.
The camera angle shot to the sky, a roaring sound – Terry was trying to fly out of there. The ascent stopped abruptly and reversed, someone must have snatched his ankle. Terry couldn't help his groan on impact.
"I'm calling Gordon," Bruce announced.
"No!"
Bruce's hand froze over the handset. Did Terry say that to Bruce or to his assailants?
"Don't you dare, old man!" Ah.
His attackers stopped. The tallest, obviously the leader, stepped foreword. "What was that?"
The camera was staring at the sky again. Terry was on his back and breathing shallowly. A hard breeze, the kind you expect from being on top of a building, whipped past the microphone, the fabric that normally protected it from the elements having been torn. Bruce strained to hear what was being said.
"Al…hav…to do is just ask me to stop, and we'll stop." Leader's mouth widened as Terry rolled his head towards him. "Just beg me, Batman. And you can live."
Terry didn't respond. "Do it," Bruce intoned. "You'll never get out of there otherwise. Just… I know… just suck it up and do it."
When he didn't get an answer, Leader drove his booted foot into Terry's abdomen. He let out of a gasp of surprise, and a choked moan. He coughed, and Bruce saw blood splatter onto the pavement. He hoped fervently that it was from a cut on Terry's face.
"Just fucking BEG," Leader snarled. His hand closed over Terry's throat, lifted him, lifted him as limp as a thirsty flower, held him over the edge of the building. Bruce quickly checked Terry's location. Only five stories, Terry had fallen from worse, the suit could take worse, but in that condition?
The camera swung suddenly, dizzyingly, Bruce caught a glimpse of Leader and his cronies laughing at the top of the building, one smoking, another holding a vial and a tiny blue spoon at his nostril. "Want a bump bef…" Their voices were getting dimmer, their forms smaller, the building larger.
Bruce waited for the crunch, dreaded, anticipated it, and when it finally echoed over the speakers, he was relieved. This wasn't the same crunch that he'd been hearing for the past fifteen minutes – this was the sound of a body falling on garbage and gravel, rather then the crunch and scrape of bones breaking and shifting against each other.
The men remained on top of the building, milling about slowly, exuberant but slowly, somewhat winding down as one of them twisted the ends of a joint and asked for a lighter.
The visor camera was still.
"Terry. Terry."
The camera was fogging a little – Bruce could faintly hear ratting exhales.
"Terry, I'm calling Gordon."
Terry didn't reply. Bruce's nerves trampolined.
"Why did Gordon want us all here so late? Anybody know?"
There were four men in the room, all looking a little glazed. They unfogged slightly when Commissioner Gordon entered. She began speaking only after she locked the door and pulled the blinds down.
"Due to a combination of circumstances, you may not speak to anyone but those in the room regarding what we are about to discuss. You're here because you're the best, you're here because I… feel that I can trust you. If you have any doubts about your secret-keeping abilities, it would be best if you left now. I would not think any less of you."
A moment passed. The thinnest man peeped, "Is it legal?"
A smile passed over Gordon's lips. "Perfectly. We're going to help a man who has helped us immeasurably."
The men were silent. The thin one, Kyle Younger, put his head down. A man with a buzz cut, Rahul Sulaweyo, looked steadily at Gordon. "What's the mission?"
"We rescue the Batman. Immediately." The tall, metropolitan-looking man, Austin Dario, looked up sharply. The fourth man in the room, Wade Calais, exhaled, pale-skinned under the PD's fluorescent lighting.
"This will be the fastest briefing in history," muttered Gordon. Raising her voice, she said simply, "Dario and Sulaweyo, you are here because you are the best stealth officers on the force that I feel are trustworthy." A chuckle from the two men. "Batman was attacked tonight by men under the influence of as of now unknown drugs, and we'll need your help. Younger and Calais, you're here because you are the most discreet ER doctors at Central." She straightened, and unlocked the door. "Let's not wait around."